


Cullen's Training Staff

by Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)



Series: The Bournshire Boys [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Honnleath, Young Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/pseuds/Starla-Nell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Knight-Captain visits Honnleath, where Cullen's 'training staff' is working hard. <strike>His staff consists entirely of his brother and sisters.</strike></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cullen's Training Staff

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs in 9:24 Dragon.
> 
> You may want to read Chasing Pigeons, Long Live Spot, Templars Roll Out, and Wilhelm's Tower for additional backstory.
> 
> Rosalie hates being a mage.

The Knight-Captain and Ser Keelin strode through the tiny Honnleath Chantry. Metal boots echoed hollowly on wood in a building far too easy to miss in a town that was, itself, not much more than a sneeze. 

“Ser Keelin,” the Knight-Captain sounded threadbare, even to himself, “I’m exhausted from my travels. Must I see this now?” 

“I’m sorry, ser, but practice ends soon, and I thought you would not want to miss it.” 

“Why would I need to see Ser Gethin’s practice?” Normally, he wouldn’t be able to name both templars in an out-of-the-way village, but the Knight-Captain kept meticulous records, which he reviewed before his visits. People are sensitive about their names: it was important he get it right. 

A shout rang out from the practice ground behind the Chantry, muffled by the thick wooden door. The quality of the sound, rather than its volume, surprised the weary Knight-Captain. “Was that – children?” 

Keelin smiled. “I prefer to think of them as a recruit and his training staff.” 

Ser Keelin opened the door for his Knight-Captain to a setting that was repeated in every tiny Chantry courtyard he’d visited on this rural tour. The late afternoon sunlight slanted to illuminate the clearing, ringed with wooden buildings: simple, but neat. The dirt was packed smooth by decades of booted feet, but some of the less-used areas had been softened by the rain a few days ago. The puddles reflected blue sky and hid a morass of mud. Person-shaped, straw dummies lined the ring. These could be used for target practice, or moved around for various blade-based exercises. Several had been pulled out for just that purpose. Tufts of curled blonde fluff bobbed between them. One of the older children wielded something sword-shaped. 

“Trainees usually spar in pairs.” 

“We couldn’t find anyone Cullen’s size who was willing to practice as often as he wanted. Over the last four years, we’ve found that this is the best system.” 

The Knight-Captain grunted his response as the boy used the weapon to attack the straw dummies. The recruit was perhaps 13 or 14, judging by his size. When the last had been dispatched with gusto, a very young woman handed a handful of beet-red ribbons to an eager girl. Each wore braids and a blonde halo of frizz. Siblings or cousins, probably. 

“Revenge is mine!” she shouted, and started throwing clusters of ribbons at a nearby group of manikins, all wearing the straw hats commonly seen on local farmers. Cullen rushed to intercept these attacks on the “villagers.” His hair was shorn, but still longer than a typical recruit. It moved distractingly in a wave with his motions. The Knight-Captain wondered how the streamers flew so quickly just before the clang of rock-on-steel filled the ring. 

“Mia’s invention. The eldest sibling, there. Fireballs, she calls them. She started him on balls of cloth, then these. He’s starting to complain again that they move too slowly, so she keeps shortening the ribbons. I’m trying to figure out how to explain to their parents why they’re throwing rocks at each other when the tails get too short.” 

“I didn’t know you had a dead-steel sword on hand, Ser Keelin.” 

Keelin was unabashed. “Frankly, ser, it’s for him.” 

The Knight-Captain raised an eyebrow. “You don’t get much tithe out here. Your Chantry was willing to spend the gold on that?” 

“It’s not new. We blunted an old sword. Besides, it was the least we could do, ser. The wooden practice swords weren’t enough anymore, and young Cullen has convinced most of our faithful to tithe the full amount. He reminds them of what we do – and what we would do if hostile mages were to attack.” 

The younger brother, Branson according to Keelin, played a fellow templar. Cullen directed him in a flanking maneuver against the “apostate,” who had a long staff and more “fireballs” tucked into her belt. Although he had noticed his observers, Cullen was focused on his task, barking crisp orders that inspired quick action in the younger boy. 

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about telling his mother about the rocks,” the Knight-Captain wryly remarked. 

“Ser?”

“Come, now. You’ve shown me a determined recruit who can give and take orders and inspire others. He might eventually make Knight-Captain if he’s half-decent at strategy.” 

Ser Keelin smiled a bit and glanced at his Knight-Captain sideways. “Like chess?” 

“Oh, that’s just overkill, Keelin.” 

Now the more junior templar worked up a bit of defensiveness. “His family depends on him to get their work done, and there aren’t many people out here for them to hire. We had to be sure.” 

The Knight-Captain nodded as Branson darted in and snatched a ribbon from behind while Cullen engaged the sister’s stick with the unedged sword. 

“One thing, Keelin,” the ranking templar added as Cullen methodically disarmed and disabled his frustrated younger sister. 

“Ser?”

“Does he ever smile?” 

“Well, ser …” 

Cullen stepped out of his stance, sheathed his sword, smiled brilliantly, and pulled his sister to her feet. “Rosalie, you make a great mage!” 

Although her eyes shined at his praise, she still pouted, “I hate being a mage!” All three of her siblings laughed together.

**Author's Note:**

> Next: Cullen arrives at Bournshire and meets an unconventional templar recruit. 
> 
> (Spoiler: it's Alistair!)


End file.
